Even Though I Know
by Random Rose
Summary: When vengance and justice intersect, can either mission survive? Rated for pending violence and sex. [SaintsOCs]
1. Chapter 1

_AN -Deep breath- Okay, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna be brave and post a BDS fic. Many thanks to GoddessLaughs for her amazing beta skills (this story would be so inferior without her), to Akecheta for her encouragment and inspiration, and to my best friend NeverMindDream for everything best friends are for. This one's for you, ladies!_

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**Even Though I Know  
**© 2007 Random Rose

**Chapter 1**

Evie bolted upright in the dingy motel bed, gasping for breath. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest as she stared, unblinking, into the dark room, her body tense and ready to confront the terror her dreams had convinced her lurked in the unfamiliar shadows.

She shuddered, still seeing images of contorted, evil faces lunging at her as lifeless hands reached out to choke the life from her.

After a few moments, the chaos in her mind slowly began to settle. She regained control of her breathing and began to take stock of her surroundings, forcing the shadows into recognizable shapes – a television, a table, a chair. She looked over at the bed beside her. Her sister, Anna, was still sleeping soundly, air whistling through her nose at intervals, seeming to confirm her earlier complaints of feeling sick. She ran a hand over her face before throwing the covers back and leaving the lumpy bed.

The clock on the nightstand told her it was 4:30 in the morning. She'd slept for a little over an hour – if you could call it sleep.

She hated sleeping. Nightmares lurked angrily even in her waking mind, but came to life, brutal and vicious, when she slept. She sighed heavily and cracked her neck before pulling a sweatshirt over her head and snatching her MP3 player off the nightstand. She secured the buds in her ears before slipping on her shoes and easing quietly onto the motel's balcony.

She turned the music's volume up until it drowned out her still raging, nightmarish thoughts. It had been sixteen years since her mother had been murdered and eleven since she'd run away from her abusive foster home, but the terror of those years still lingered and festered like a wound that would never completely heal.

She'd lost count of how many times she'd contemplated suicide. She'd even gone so far as to attempt it once. Even now, she fought the empty, aching desire to just end it all. To be done with the pain. Done with the nightmares. Done with the fear.

But it wasn't time yet. Soon, but not yet. There were things to be done first. She knocked a cigarette out of its carton and groped her pockets for a light.

"Fuck," she muttered softly, coming up empty.

A small flame suddenly burst near her face. She raised her eyes just enough to see a youngish man illuminated in the orange glow. She turned towards the flame and lit the end of the fag. She inhaled deeply and breathed out the smoke before nodding her thanks to the man. He nodded back, moving the lighter to the end of the cigarette resting between his own lips.

She watched him absently as he drew the smoke deep into his lungs, recognizing a fellow chain smoker when she saw one. It really was hard to place his age. There was a certain hardness to his blue eyes and premature lines etched into his otherwise young face. A lock of his sandy hair fell across his forehead when he nodded at her again and promptly retreated a little further down the balcony where he was joined by a second man. They disappeared into a room and she dismissed them from her mind for the time.

Taking another drag from her rapidly dwindling cigarette, she pulled out a scrap of paper from the front pocket of her sweatshirt. It was worn and ragged, having been folded and unfolded countless times. She stared at the address written there as though making sure it hadn't somehow changed on her before folding it up again and taking one last long inhale on her cigarette, stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray and heading down the stairs. Making her way out onto the road, she broke into a jog, giving her smoke-infested lungs a moment or two to catch up to the rest of her otherwise healthy, if sleep deprived body before breaking into a proper run.

The fall air was cool against her exposed skin, the night sky polluted by the orange glow of street lights. It didn't take long for the rhythm of her run to refocus the last remnants of her nightmarish thoughts, the steady thumping of her shoes against the pavement becoming a kind of mantra that translated into one word: revenge, revenge, revenge.

By the time she became aware of herself again, her legs were beginning to shake in protest of the lengths she'd pushed them. Her breathing was heavy and labored, years of chain smoking suddenly very apparent. She'd lost track of how long she'd run, but the sun was coming up on the horizon as she slowed to a walk in the motel's parking lot. She slipped soundlessly back into her room, stripping off her clothes as she made her way to the little bathroom. Anna was just waking up, writhing and stretching in the bed.

"Where did you go?" she mumbled sleepily.

"For a run," was all Evie gave her before closing the bathroom door behind her. She turned the water on and let the powerful stream rake over her now trembling muscles. If she could figure out a way to smoke in the shower, it would be the perfect haven for her.

----

Anna yawned and debated going back to sleep, but if Evie had been out running, it meant that this was going to be a busy, 'let's-make-sure-we-didn't-miss-anything' day. She knew her sister hardly slept – it had been that way for almost 16 years now – but the running thing was something new. It had only started in the last couple of years, ever since they had decided that the time had finally come for Evie to fulfill her vow to avenge their murdered mother. After a night of running, her normally quiet, introspective sister would become a single-focused, determined ball of energy – getting more done in a day than most normal people would care to tackle in a week.

Anna was only eight when their stepfather murdered their mother, Evie was ten. The man – Anna's could hardly even think his name without feeling nauseated – had returned home, angry and violent, from a night of heavy drinking and their mother had made the simple mistake of confronting him. Their fight went from yells to blows in mere seconds. Anna, young as she was, had always suspected that her stepfather hated her and Evie and that night, he proved it beyond a shadow of a doubt, dragging their mother into their room and beating her to a bloody pulp in front of them. Evie, always Anna's protector, had shoved her under the covers so she wouldn't see what was going on. Anna had screamed until she'd passed out, but Evie witnessed the whole thing; lived through every blow, suffered helplessly through every agonizing moment of their mother's brutal murder.

But no one wanted to believe a 10 year old. The man was charged with manslaughter and spent less than ten years in prison. The sisters were split up into separate foster homes and had minimal contact with each other until Evie ran away five years later. Evie wouldn't talk about those years, but Anna knew that something terrible had happened to her sister – she'd retreated so far into herself that some days she wouldn't even let Anna touch her. Anna's foster family had eventually taken Evie in until she moved out on her own, Anna joining her after she finished high school.

It wasn't until four years ago, however, that Evie had told her about the vow. Anna shuddered at the memory. Evie had tried to hang herself, and might have succeeded if Anna hadn't come home when she did. After Anna had screamed at her for an hour or more, Evie finally told her about the vow she'd made over their dying mother to make their stepfather pay for what he'd done. She had lost hope that she would ever be able to fulfill it and the agony of that hopelessness was more than she could live with.

And that's when they'd learned about the Saints of South Boston. Anna had read about them in the local paper after they had killed mafia boss, Papa Yakavetta, in front of a courtroom full of people. Here were real men carrying out real justice against evil people. It was like a light went on for Evie. There was suddenly hope that she too could see justice done.

Throwing on her jeans and a t-shirt, Anna whipped her auburn hair back and up and grabbed the car keys off the top of the TV. Evie was the self-proclaimed caregiver in their relationship and had real difficulty asking for or accepting help, so Anna had taken it upon herself to at least make sure she ate. It was funny, really. Evie was one of the most competent people she knew, but if Anna didn't put food in front of her once in a while, she would forget to eat, sometimes for days.

Anna put the car into gear and made for the nearest Burger King.

----

Evie had turned the hot water completely off and was resolutely standing under the cold spray. The things she did to stave off her demons of hatred, anger, and despair were many and varied. She'd tried self-flagellation once, only to decide that she'd experienced too many beatings already. Her mother's Catholicism wouldn't let her get away without some sort of penance, however, hence the daily shocking of her system with an ice-cold shower. She smiled dryly at the irony of it all. She was planning on an eternity in hell anyway.

She quickly dried off and wrapped the fraying motel towel around her body so she could open the bathroom door to let out the trapped steam. A cursory scan of the room revealed her sister to be missing. She wasn't surprised. Anna knew what she was like after running all night and had probably gone to get them some food so they could get the day started. She wiped the moisture off the mirror with one hand, reaching first for her MP3 player and then her wide-tooth comb with the other.

The green eyes looking back at her in the mirror were tired and cold. She sighed, wishing that just once, she could see even a glimmer of the life that flashed in her sister's eyes in her own. She knew this was of her own making. She knew she had chosen this. She knew that she had suffered and sacrificed much to protect the life in her sister's eyes. That knowledge didn't make it any easier to see death in her own every day, though.

Evie was dressed but still fighting to comb out her long black hair when Anna burst into the room, grey eyes bright with excitement, hands full of fast-food breakfast.

"They were here!" she declared triumphantly.

Evie screwed up her face, leaving the comb stuck in her hair and taking the bags and cups out of her sister's hands. "Who was here?" she asked.

"The Saints," her sister said, her voice breathy and reverent, reaching for the comb in her sister's hair.

Only a flicker that passed over Evie's face betrayed that this news had any effect on her. "How do you know?" she asked.

Anna stopped tugging on the comb to give her sister an incredulous look. "Did you not hear the sirens? There's gotta be half a dozen cop cars out there, not to mention an ambulance."

"Sorry," Evie shrugged. "Had my earphones in."

Anna shook her head and rolled her eyes. "You and your music," she muttered, attacking her sister's thick mass of hair again.

Evie picked up one of the cups and sipped carefully at the hot liquid.

"_Anyway,_" Anna continued, carefully scrutinizing a small bird's nest of tangled hair and trying to pick it apart with her fingers before going at it again with the comb. "I know because I saw the body. Double tap, pennies over the eyes and everything."

Evie cocked an eyebrow at her sister. "'Double tap'? You watch too many crime shows. Besides, it could just be a copycat," she offered, not really wanting to believe they'd been so close.

"Pssh," Anna scoffed, tugging the comb through another stubborn knot. "As if. At any rate, the cop I talked to seemed pretty convinced it was them."

Evie winced and strained to keep her neck from breaking from Anna's efforts at detangling. "I'm afraid to ask, but how did you get it out of him?"

Anna laughed, finally starting to have some success with Evie's hair. "Well, when I got back and saw those cop cars all over the place, I went up to the room where they were and pretended I thought it was mine. Just sort of burst in, you know? Anyway, they asked me some questions and then I 'accidentally' brushed my boobs against one of the cop's arms and 'accidentally' brushed my hand near his crotch and it was pretty much full disclosure from there."

Evie shook her head and tried to take another sip of coffee. "I'm glad I wasn't there."

"Hey, don't diss my methods. They've got us this far, haven't they?"

Evie had to begrudgingly agree. Anna's antics had, for the most part, secured all the information they'd needed until now. She looked at her sister in the mirror, amazed again at how she was able to look so fresh faced and beautiful before even having a shower or putting any makeup on.

"I just – I can't believe they were actually here," Anna was saying. "I told you, didn't I? I told you we were destined to meet them here."

Evie fingered the silver cross at the end of the long chain around her neck. Providence. Maybe her sister was right. The Saints had kind of been the catalyst for all of this, after all. She winced as Anna tugged at another particularly tangled knot and thought about how badly she wanted a smoke. Suddenly, the image of the man from last night flashed in her mind. Could he have been..? No. That would be a little too coincidental, even for her.

Anna finally got Evie's hair untangled and quickly started plaiting the thick locks together. Ever since they were kids, Anna had always loved playing with Evie's hair. She'd got quite good at it, actually. Evie never knew what to do with her unruly hair and usually tied it back when Anna wasn't around. Anna, on the other hand, could shape and style it better than any hairdresser Evie had ever been to.

When Anna had finally secured the long braid with a hair elastic, she grabbed the unclaimed cup of coffee, kissed her sister's cheek and headed off into the bathroom.

Evie grabbed her jacket off the end of the bed, took her cigarettes out of her sweat shirt and made sure she had a lighter before stepping out onto the balcony again. She leaned against the rail as she lit up and took a long drag before looking over at the commotion to her left. A shiver ran down her spine when she noticed that it was indeed the same room she'd seen the two men enter last night.

A cop spotted her and made his way toward her. "Good morning," he greeted her, the cheeriness in his voice completely contrary to his cool, detached demeanor.

"Morning," Evie answered. "My sister tells me someone's been murdered," she said, cutting through any small talk the man might have thought he needed to engage in.

She didn't miss the blush creeping up the man's neck. She inwardly chuckled. She'd yet to meet a man impervious to her sister's charms.

"Yes, that's right," he answered, trying to feign indifference. "You hear anything last night?"

She shook her head, sucking back hard on the cigarette, a fidget that only someone who knew her would recognize as a nervous action. "Nope. I was out running."

"You weren't sleeping?" the cop asked, disbelief lacing his words.

She gave him a half-grin as she exhaled. "I don't sleep."

"What time did you leave?" he asked.

"4:00 am-ish," she lied. Not that it really mattered. She knew from her own mother's murder trial that there was no way to pinpoint an exact time of death, no matter how good the coroner.

"Did you see anyone?"

"Here or while I was running?" she asked.

"Both."

"No one here. Dead quiet…" she paused, wincing, catching her own bad pun. "Sorry."

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "What about when you were running? Anyone suspicious drive by?"

She gave a wry chuckle. "Anyone out at four in the morning is suspicious, far as I'm concerned."

"Including you?" he asked, trying to trap her.

She grinned. "Absolutely." She tossed what was left of the cigarette over the side of the balcony and held out her hands to him. "Wanna test me for gunshot residue?"

He gave her a look that said _smartass_ and waved one of the CSI's over. The young woman whipped out a cotton ball and a spritz bottle containing some sort of chemical. She ran the cotton ball over Evie's right hand and spritzed it lightly. Nothing happened. She took a new cotton ball and repeated the procedure on Evie's left hand. Still nothing.

Evie was still grinning coolly at the officer. "Anything else I can help you with?" she asked.

"No," he answered. She wondered for a minute whether he would ask about Anna. Instead, he pulled a business card out of his breast pocket and handed it to her. "If you think of anything else…" he said.

She accepted it with a nod and went back inside to eat her breakfast.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN Here's another chapter to get you more into the story. Thanks again to GoddessLaughs for her beta abilities._

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**Chapter 2**

"My feet are fuckin' freezing," Murphy complained.

"If ye'd wash yer socks, ye wouldn't 'ave that problem now, would ye?" Connor told him.

"If ye'd stop stealing my socks, I wouldn't 'ave that problem," Murphy countered, throwing an empty beer can at his brother.

It was late afternoon and the twins had just rolled out of bed to a breakfast of cold pizza and warm beer. Connor reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a crushed pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he tossed the pack to Murphy before lighting up.

Murphy eyed his brother evenly, waiting until Connor tossed him the lighter before asking the question that had been on his mind since the previous night.

"What the fuck were ye thinkin' last night?" he asked.

Connor exhaled a puff of smoke and rubbed his eyes. "Thinkin' 'bout what?"

"Letting that fuckin' girl see ye."

Murphy was no fool, especially when it came to his twin. He knew that it had been sheer impulse – a common courtesy in any other situation – but it hadn't been any other situation. His brother should have known the second he offered that girl a light that it would come back to bite him in the arse.

Connor shrugged dismissively as if trying to avoid the issue. "Just being polite."

Murphy scoffed at him. "Ye risked getting us caught."

"She never saw us doin' anything," Connor protested, eyes looking everywhere but at his brother.

"Maybe not, but she can place ye there now."

"What does it matter?" Connor asked, frustration more than evident in his tone. "It's been four fuckin' years. If they'd wanted t' catch us, they would'a done it by now."

Murphy launched another beer can at his brother's head. Connor barely ducked in time to miss being hit. "Yer a fuckin' idiot. We can't do our work in jail."

"Sure we can," Connor deliberately provoked his twin. "What better place for us? Full of fuckin' criminals. We could deliver dozens a day."

"And get ourselves killed in the process?" Murphy took the bait, his voice beginning to rise, his body tensing for the physical fight he was pretty sure would break out in a minute. "What the fuck is wrong with ye?"

"Nothing's fuckin' wrong with me! She needed a fuckin' light, okay? It's no big deal." Murphy didn't miss the note of defeat in his brother's voice, the unspoken request to end the argument.

But he wasn't finished just yet. He went in for the kill, leaning ever so slightly over the litter-covered kitchen table. "Just because yer a fuckin' horny bastard doesn't give ye the right t' be jeopardizing our entire fuckin' mission!"

"Fuck ye, Murph! Haven't ye seen how fucked up this is? We can't – we can't ever be _normal_. I can't even light a girl's fag without puttin' us at risk." He ran a hand over his face and met his brother's eyes. "I wonder – is it really worth it, brother?"

The brothers stared each other down, struggling with each other silently, their deep, intrinsic bond allowing them to know and respond to what the other was thinking without ever saying a word.

Finally satisfied that Connor was genuinely conflicted and not merely horny, Murphy sat back and took a long drag on his cigarette, contemplating his next move. Every year or so they went through this – one or the other or both of them questioning their call or their ability to carry through their mission from God. Their differentness from the rest of the world, their self-imposed isolation from 'normal' life or their inability to completely eradicate evil usually sparked the doubt, and these were never pleasant times.

In the past, their Da would set them aright – sitting them down and preaching at them until they recalled their purpose and passion. He'd since left them on their own, deeming them ready to carry on the family tradition without his help. More recently, the brothers took turns holding each other in check, sometimes arguing things out, sometimes physically beating on each other till they came around.

Looking at Connor now, Murphy knew he needed something – something to light the fire in him again. He wasn't sure what that something was yet, but he knew it had better come soon. His brother had seemed especially discontent of late.

And then, as though in answer to this unspoken need, the phone rang.

Murphy took another long drag on his cigarette before picking up the receiver. "Aye?"

He listened quietly and smoked furiously for a few minutes before shoving pizza boxes and other debris littering the beat up kitchen table aside, looking for the pen he knew he'd left there somewhere. Coming up triumphant, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and jotted a name and address onto the lid of an old pizza box. "Cheers," he finally said before hanging up.

"_Qui est que?_" Connor asked. Who was that?

"The good Lord himself," Murphy told him, tearing off the cardboard and tossing it at his brother.

"Jarvis Henly?" Connor read out his brother's hastily scribbled note. "What's his problem?"

"Oh, the usual fuckin' fare – bookie, dealer, mob-thug. But this fucker's also particularly fond of your favorite sins – beatin' on women and children."

Connor nodded darkly and Murphy smiled to himself. Bastards like that always managed to cut through the doubt.

"When?" Connor asked.

"Tomorrow night's best, I'm told."

Murphy searched through the boxes on the table and pulled out a greasy slice of what looked like pepperoni pizza. He put it on top of one of the empty boxes as a makeshift plate and walked it over to his brother, holding it out like a peace offering. "Eat something," he told Connor.

Connor stubbed out the last of his cigarette before taking the proffered gift. "She was fuckin' hot though, wasn't she?" he commented with a grin.

Murphy ruffled his twin's unruly hair then cuffed the back of his head. "Aye, that she was."

----

"Evie, you have to eat," Anna urged her sister, who was pacing, wearing a path in the already thin motel carpet.

Evie shook her head vaguely. "Not hungry."

They'd spent the day in a flurry of activity, just as Anna had suspected they would. Under the ruse of supplying Anna's cop friend more 'information' about the previous night's murder, they managed to gather some decent intelligence on the Boston Police Department's personnel, schedules and habits. Later, they went to a downtown pub for lunch where Anna managed to suss out the name of a local weapons supplier from an unsuspecting bookie. At the supplier's, Evie haggled with the slimy dealer for about twenty minutes over the price of two .45 millimeters and two silencers. By the time she was done with him, he claimed he was practically letting them steal the weapons from him. For that, she made him toss in a stun gun, just to teach him a lesson in 'chivalry'.

Disguises were next on the list – two ridiculous Betty Boop masks. The girls made a great show in the costume store of pretending to fight over what to dress up as for Halloween. They finally settled on the Betty Boop masks after convincing two other women in the store to choose the same items. They joked about possibly showing up at the same party and how confusing it would be for all their friends. They laughed over the idea of starting a Betty Boop gang, seducing men away from their money all over the country. The sisters, of course, were more concerned with throwing the cops off their trail, should it come to that.

Surgical gloves were last on the list, purchased from a medical supply store and paid in cash, just like everything else.

On top of all that, Evie had made Anna drive past their step dad's house what felt like a thousand times, as though she were afraid it would suddenly pick itself up by its foundation and walk away.

Anna knew that everything had to be perfect. Evie had reminded her at intervals throughout day that they only had one shot at this and that it had to be right.

"You would be hungry if you tried eating," Anna insisted, holding out a French fry to her sister. Evie took it as she passed by and nibbled at it absently, lost in her own little world, no doubt obsessing about the task that now loomed ominously before them.

Without warning, a sudden, fearful chill washed over Anna as she watched her sister pacing back and forth in the small room. Something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she couldn't shake the sickening feeling that if they did what they'd come to do tonight, there would be a terrible price to pay. The feeling grew stronger and Anna swallowed hard, every instinct screaming at her to wait, to do anything but what they intended to do tonight.

But how to tell Evie? Her sister was engulfed in a cocoon of nervous, ready energy and wouldn't take the suggestion lightly. "I think we should wait," Anna finally ventured softly, intently watching her sister's reaction.

Evie stopped abruptly and stared at Anna as though she didn't recognize her. Anna herself hardly recognized her sister, her green eyes seemed possessed and…other. "What?"

"Something's not right. We can't do this tonight," Anna urged gently.

Evie's fists clenched. "We have to. We're committed," she insisted.

"No, we're not. No one knows but us, Evie." Anna watched her sister's body language carefully. She didn't miss the angry flinch that passed over Evie's face. Her eyes were cold, hard and vacant – she was primed; she was ready; she needed this… but not tonight. Something wasn't right.

"I have to," Evie said again, not breaking eye contact with her sister, leveling a silent challenge at her.

Anna knew she couldn't back down. She'd seen Evie in this state before, during their stepfather's trial. There was no point in trying to fight with her. The trick was to stay calm and not be intimidated by her anger.

"Evie, please," Anna urged, reaching out and tentatively touching her sister's hand, using physical contact to try to break through Evie's silent cocoon. Her hand was cold and trembling. Evie recoiled slightly and Anna thought for a minute that she might lash out and hit her.

Instead, she shook her head and seemed to come out of her trance. She returned her hand to Anna's, her eyes suddenly flooded with an ache and sadness that nearly broke Anna's heart. "I don't know how much longer I can wait," she said, her voice husky and tremulous.

"I know," Anna said soothingly, kissing her sister's hand, exuding as much calm as she could muster. "I just…I have a really bad feeling about tonight."

Evie sat down on the end of one of the beds, looking completely deflated. Anna knew the fight was over. Evie was too tired and Anna had proved on more than one occasion that she had a kind of sixth sense about these kinds of things. She moved to sit behind her sister. Taking out the hair elastic at the end of Evie's long braid, she shook out her hair, running her fingers through the thick black locks. She didn't know what it was, but playing with her hair always managed to have a calming effect on Evie. Sure enough, her shoulders started relaxing as tension started ebbing away.

"Let's watch a movie," Anna suggested, reaching for the remote. "We haven't done that since we got here."

The television flickered to life and images whipped past as Anna searched for something to watch, finally settling on _Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights_. Evie scoffed half-heartedly. "This is the cheesiest movie ever."

Anna grinned. "I know. But the dancing's hot and the main actor guy is dead sexy."

"Do you even know his name?"

"What does it matter? He's just fucking tasty. I'd totally do him."

Evie shook her head. "You're the horniest woman I've ever met, you know that, right?"

Anna laughed. "Better believe it, sister."


	3. Chapter 3

_Not Betaed. Work in progress. Just watched 'All Saints Day' and felt compelled to post the rest of what I've written (Three years later? Yeesh. Better late than never, I guess.)_

_**2013 - Edited a bit of this chapter to adjust for 'All Saints Day'. I actually have an ending in mind (finally!) for this story and an idea for a follow up to the second movie. Go figure..._

**Chapter 3**

Evie woke the next morning to find sunlight already pouring into the little motel room. Anna was snoring quietly beside her on the bed and the TV flickered silently at her from the dresser across the room. She glanced at the clock – 7:30 in the morning. She'd slept for at least three hours, a small miracle.

She felt calmer than the morning before – less frenetic and certainly less anxious. Her nightmares, though never leaving her, had been subdued enough to grant her a deeper sleep than she'd had in months.

Some days she hated that Anna was always right about her premonitions. Her intuition about situations never ceased to amaze Evie. Hell, at six years old, she'd known that their stepfather was a first-class prick. Back then, Evie had been willing to give him the benefit of a doubt, but it took less than a year of his living with them to prove Anna right again and again.

There would never be any way of knowing what last night's outcome would have been if Evie had stuck to her guns and insisted they carry through their task. In the end, though, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Evie fulfilled her vow to her mom. And Anna hadn't said they could never do that – just not that night.

Easing out of the bed so as not to wake her sister, Evie slipped on her sneakers and snuck out to the balcony for a smoke. She was still fully dressed, so her MP3 player and cigarettes were in close reach.

Glancing to her left, she saw that the room at the end of the hall was still barricaded with bright yellow police tape. She couldn't suppress the shudder that coursed through her body as memories of her own little bedroom covered by the stuff slammed into her mind. With any luck (and Anna's blessing), those memories at least could be put to rest tonight.

She inhaled deeply on her cigarette and contemplated the day. They had everything they needed, supplies-wise, so there was no real need to go anywhere. Staying in felt like a really good option today. It would give her time to relax and refocus. She needed to be in the right headspace to fulfill her vow the way she'd intended. Apart from killing her stepfather, she needed him to admit what he'd done and she knew that would never happen if she herself wasn't calm and willing to be patient. In her heart, she knew she would have killed him outright last night – the hate and rage had been way too close to the surface for it to have been otherwise.

Rubbing the back of her neck, she found herself thinking about the sandy-haired man who'd lit her cigarette two nights before. His face had wandered in and out of her dreams all night and she couldn't decide if it bothered her or not. Even now, she could recall his blue eyes so clearly – they were clear and uncompromising, but incredibly kind. Or were they? Maybe she was just making it up in the hopes that he really was one of the Saints.

Destined to meet them, Anna had insisted for the last four years. She fingered the cross pendant on the long chain she wore around her neck, a subconscious gesture she almost always made when she thought about the Saints. How could three men she didn't even know have had such a huge impact on her life? It didn't make any sense. She knew people to be inherently evil for the most part, intent on hurting each other, and yet here were three men who had descended on her life from out of nowhere, like angels of God to point her way to salvation.

No, she corrected herself. Not to salvation. Only to justice. She was too far gone for salvation at this point. She wasn't even sure any more if the devil would have her. Maybe languishing in purgatory was all that was left for her.

Standing back from the railing, she cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders. Her thoughts had become too theological, even for her tastes. She slipped back inside and took the car keys off the top of the television. She would get breakfast this morning.

Purpose and mission had come with Connor's waking that morning. The doubt from the day before had been pushed into the far recesses of his mind once again. Today, justice needed to be meted out once again, and he knew that he and his brother were the ones called by God to deliver it.

He inhaled deeply on a cigarette before returning to the task at hand – cleaning his guns. He'd been at the vigilante game long enough to know that a dirty gun equaled a dead hit man. The pieces of his favorite firearms were laid neatly on an old towel in front of him on the kitchen table and an old beer can served as an ashtray for his ever-present cigarette as he meticulously examined and cleaned each part. He could hear Murphy laughing loudly at an old Abbot and Costello show on TV and for a moment, felt like everything was as it should be.

"Murph, get off yer arse and get me your guns," he called out.

"My guns are fuckin' fine," came his twin's retort.

"How would ye fuckin' know? Ye haven't been laid in months!"

"Fuck ye!" Murphy laughed.

"Get me yer fuckin' guns ye fucker!" Conner insisted, leaving his cigarette hanging loosely in his lips as he worked at the barrel of a .9 millimeter.

He heard the old couch squeak and groan in protest at Murphy's labored efforts of getting off of it. His lips curled into a grin and he rolled his eyes at the bangs and grumbles that accompanied his brother's chore. It took a few minutes and a more than a few curses before Murphy finally dumped five guns on the table in front of Connor.

"Yer one fuckin' anal retentive bastard, ye know that, right?" Murphy grumbled, snatching the fag from Connor's mouth and taking a deep drag of it.

"Aye, I'm a bastard fer wantin' ta make sure my lazy-arsed brother doesn't kill himself in the middle of a hit." He snatched the cigarette back before shoving Murphy's guns off to one side.

"Ye always fuckin' get like this, ye know," Murphy observed.

"Like what?" Connor hated when Murphy started playing Captain Obvious. It always led to a tussle and he wasn't sure he was up for it.

"All fuckin' organized and precise and shit."

"Oh, forgive me fer bein' fuckin' cautious," he said, snapping the .9 millimeter back together.

"Fuck this. Come watch TV with me," Murphy tried.

"No, I wanna finish this first," he said, taking apart the next gun.

"Ye can fuckin' do it in front of the TV as well as here," Murphy pushed.

"Fine," Connor finally relented. "On one condition."

"Name it," Murphy said.

"Ye fuckin' help me for once."

"Damn it!" Murphy cursed with a grin. "Fine!"

Evie and Anna spent the day lounging in their motel room, eating Chinese take-out and watching old movies on TV. Their mood was relatively relaxed, but they constantly checked the alarm clock on the nightstand. This would be a definitive night for both of them and they had no interest in missing their cue.

Anna also watched her sister carefully all day, admittedly amazed at the dramatic change in her sister's demeanor. She'd been edgy, anxious and angry the day before. Today she seemed calm and purposeful. It was a little bit unsettling – like the calm on a lake before a violent storm. And yet, it was somehow better than the anxious, barely contained rage from yesterday. It was like the difference between a tornado and a hurricane – one destroyed absolutely everything while the other's damage was precise and localized.

As the sun set, Anna felt the darkness of their task descend upon her and Evie. Tonight they were both ready. Tonight they would end it – the years of anger, fear and rage would evaporate with the death of their former step-father. He would die at their hands just as their mother had died at his.

The sisters packed their meager belongings and strapped their newly-acquired guns into shoulder harnesses. Anna couldn't help but pray that after all was said and done, Evie would finally be able to sleep again.

They sat silently in the car for a few moments, absorbing the weight of what they were about to do.

"You don't have to come with me," Evie said quietly.

Anna's jaw set in determination. "She was my mother too," she answered, meeting her sister's eyes.

Evie nodded and put the car into gear.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Connor and Murphy were finished their chore. Their house looked like a disaster area, but their guns were cleaner than military-standard. They'd lapsed into a purposeful silence, neither needing to speak to know what the other was thinking and feeling. Connor packed their black duffle bag with their guns, masks and rope while Murphy fetched their black wool pea coats and rosaries. They each silently crossed themselves before leaving the house.

Jarvis Henly's place was exactly where it should be – nestled amongst other gangster's businesses and residences. Connor checked the address again, just to be absolutely certain they were at the right place.

"I wish Rocco were here," Murphy said, sadness and regret mingled in his voice.

"No ye don't," Connor told him. "He would'a just made a scene o' things the way he always fuckin' did." His words were harsh, but his tone was full of compassion. He missed their old friend too.

"Aye," Murphy agreed, rubbing his rosary thoughtfully before tucking it under his shirt. Connor passed him a black ski mask and they both checked their guns and crossed themselves again before leaving the car.

They approached the back door silent as cats, guns raised and ready. Connor tried the door handle and found it locked. He leaned in to see if the deadbolt was in place. Seeing that it wasn't, he slipped a credit card from his jeans pocket and worked it carefully between the door and the jam until the latch went back with a little click. He opened the door carefully, Murphy following him closely, watching their back.

The house seemed deadly quiet as the two vigilantes crept through it. The first floor appeared to be completely empty – no one in the kitchen, living room or den. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Connor couldn't help but feel as though something were amiss, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Finally he spotted it – a sliver of light shone out from under the closed door of one of the bedrooms. He motioned to Murphy to stay close as he put a hand on the handle to open it. He listened closely for a minute – he heard what sounded like a whispered argument from the other side of the door. Just then, a man cried out in what sounded like a mixture of shock and pain. In the same moment, Connor had pushed the door open, gun leveled at who or whatever was in the room. He didn't have to look over his shoulder to know his twin was doing the same.

Connor hadn't quite been sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. Two very creepy looking Betty Boops stared back at him, guns leveled at him and his brother. One had a stun gun aimed at a man writhing on the floor at their feet.

"What the fuck?" Murphy cursed beside him.

It seemed like ages that the four gunmen stood there staring at each other. Finally one of the Bettys spoke. "Are you here for us or him?" she asked.

"Is that Jarvis Henly?" Murphy asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"Then him," Murphy told her.

Connor was still so startled by this unexpected development that he couldn't quite find his voice. They'd encountered a lot of situations in the four years they'd been at the vigilante game, but nothing like this.

"Who are you?" the Betty demanded.

"They call us the Saints," Murphy answered. Connor's head snapped to look at his brother and he had to restrain himself from punching him. What a bleeding hypocrite! Takes me to task for offering a girl a light, but just willy-nilly tells any crazy Betty Boop look-a-like who they are. Un-fucking-believable.

"Who are you?" Murphy asked the Betty in return.

"His assassins," came the reply.

There was a tense moment as it dawned on the four gunmen that they were all there for the same reason – to kill Jarvis Henly. The only question remaining was who got to have the honor.

Finally, the Betty that had been speaking to them so far lowered her gun. "Do you mind if we finish up?" she asked. "This is kinda personal."

Connor and Murphy shared a look between them and silently came to an agreement. They each lowered their weapon and took a half step back.

"Please, carry on," Murphy said with a polite motion of his hand.

The Betty that had so far been silent lowered her gun and turned her attention back to the man still squirming on the ground, the stun gun's electrodes stuck to his chest. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him upright onto his knees. Crouching in front of him, she pulled her mask off. Connor, if he had been shocked before, felt even more so now as he recognized the girl from the motel. It was the eyes that gave her away – he'd dreamt about them for two nights in a row already.

Those startling green eyes were now fixed firmly on Jarvis Henly and Connor did not envy him. Her jaw was set in a hard line and her face was full of that cold, calculating rage that only comes with a deep-seated, personal need for revenge.

Henly looked as though he was about to shit his pants.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked, her voice low and husky, and if not for the deadly look in her eye, might have been incredibly sexy.

Henly's terror was almost palpable. "A ghost," he managed to get out.

Her smile was merciless. "That's right. I'm the ghost of Christmas past." She released the cartridge of her gun and checked to make sure it was fully loaded before locking it back into place.

"Do you know why I'm here?" she asked.

"You look just like her…" Henly's voice trailed off as pieces of the puzzle finally seemed to fall into place for him. "Evie…"

She unscrewed the gun's silencer and examined it before putting it back together again, drawing out the agony of suspense both for Henly and for Connor. "That's right," she acknowledged. "It's been a long time, Jarvis."

Connor watched as Henly started struggling against the plastic ties the women had used to secure his wrists behind his back. His first instinct was to do something to stop him, but the other Betty, who he finally noticed had also taken off her mask, already had it covered. She pressed her gun against his temple.

Henly flinched at the cold metal and stopped struggling. "You can't…don't do this," he started pleading. "I served my time…"

Suddenly, the nameless Betty delivered a powerful punch to Henly's jaw. "Don't you fucking dare," she hissed. "Ten years languishing in a fucking summer camp doesn't make up for ruining our lives."

"Anna – I didn't…" he tried to defend himself to no avail.

"Shut up," Evie said forcefully.

"Killing me won't bring her back," he tried again.

Anna made to punch him again but Evie held up her hand to stop her.

"This isn't about bringing her back," Evie said, her voice never faltering. "This is about fulfilling a promise I made to my dying mother."

"I never meant to kill her!" Henly protested.

Connor could see that the woman named Anna was just about beside herself with rage. Her hand flexed and un-flexed around the .45 she was holding against his head. Evie, the motel-girl, was still the more frightening of the pair, however. Her hatred of this man was deep and pure, and Connor could see that her unflinching stare was already beginning to kill Henly from the inside out.

"You never were a very good liar," Evie said evenly. "I'm not quite sure how you managed to blindside twelve jurors, but that's a mystery for another day. Today it's time for your confession."

She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a slim black voice recorder.

Henly seemed even more appalled at this than he had at the prospect of dying. "Evie, please…" he begged, "Don't do this."

The cold smile returned as she lashed out and gripped his throat. "Look around you, Jarvis," she said, her tone menacing and deadly serious. "Four people came to kill you today. You are not leaving here alive, no matter how much you beg and plead. Anna and I can make this fairly quick and painless – you confess, we kill you clean. You hold out and maybe I'll enlist the help of these fine gentlemen to extract a confession from you by whatever means we deem necessary. It's your choice."

It didn't take long for Henly to weigh his options. "What do you want me to say?" he managed to choke out.

"I want the truth. Start from the beginning." She released her hold on him and clicked on the recorder, holding it near his mouth.

He stared at it, at Evie, at Anna, at Connor and Murphy and finally back at Evie. She clicked the recorder off again.

"This only works if you talk," she instructed dryly. "My patience will only hold out for so long."

She clicked the device back on, but shut it off again quickly. "Do not make it sound like we're here," she said as an afterthought.

Henly swallowed hard, then made up his mind. "It was early April. Ruby and I had a big fight that morning, while… her kids were at school." Connor didn't miss the way he gritted that part through his teeth, resenting not being able to implicate the girls in his story.

"I wanted her to get rid of her kids – give them both up for adoption. When we got married, she'd said she would, but she told me that day that she'd lied, hoping I'd change my mind. I was fucking furious. I didn't want any kids, never mind two smart-assed girls who never listened to a fucking thing I said. I beat on her after the fight, then went to the bar. I didn't start out drinking. I knew a guy there who dealt steroids for some of the boys in the mob, so I paid him to give me as much as he could without killing me. Then I started drinking. All I could think about was how fucking mad I was and how I wanted to kill her – and both of her kids. By the time I got home, I was so hammered and jacked-up on 'roids I couldn't think straight. She met me at the door and it was kind of all over from there. I hit her hard enough the first time to knock her out, then I dragged her into her kids' room and finished her off. I wanted to punish all of them for making me so fucking miserable. I would've gone after both girls after I knew Ruby was dead, but the oldest one attacked me – stabbed me in the leg with the fucking arm of a Barbie doll. Figured I'd cut my losses and get out of there."

He paused in his monologue, the hatred from that night renewed in the retelling. Connor watched the fear leave the man as he and the woman called Evie stared each other down.

"That enough for you, you little bitch? I knew I should have killed you when I had the opportunity," Henly spat.

Connor was beyond done with this bastard. He made to move forward, but Murphy put out an arm to stop him. They exchanged a challenging look before Connor relented. This was not his fight.

Evie had turned the recorder off before Henly had started in on his insults. Her face, if it were possible, seemed to be paler and darker all at the same time. "Shoulda, coulda, woulda," she murmured through clenched teeth. "At least one of us gets to finish what they started."

"You fucking cunt! Do you think you're better than me?" Henly was raging now – his terror had turned into the angry ravings of a mad man who knew he was about to die. "You're nothing but a fucking whore, just like your fucking mother! She deserved to die, the fucking bitch!"

In what seemed to be a single movement, Evie grabbed the stun gun from her sister's hand and pressed it hard against Henly's crotch. He was on the floor screaming in agony before Connor had time to process what had happened.

"You know, there are few things I hate more than people who don't know when to shut the fuck up," Evie told Henly before hauling him onto his knees again.

She finally stood and stretched a little, having been crouched on the ground for so long. Connor had no trouble seeing the family resemblance between the two girls. Their hair and eyes were different colors, but the shape of their faces was just about identical. Evie tossed the stun gun aside and shared a look with her sister. It struck Connor that she maybe wasn't as strong as she'd so far come across. It almost looked like she needed to get her sister's permission to continue with what they'd obviously come to do.

Anna nodded and the two women took aim at Henly's head. "Goodbye, Jarvis," was all Evie said before the familiar soft pops of the guns filled Conner's ears.

Connor watched the two women, not entirely sure what was going to come next. Evie knelt down again, staring at the dead man as though she weren't entirely sure he wasn't going to get back up. Anna crouched down beside her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, whispering something Connor couldn't make out.

Moments later, Anna, the redhead, stood up from her sister's side and approached the two men, both of whom had taken off their ski masks some time earlier. She locked eyes with each of them in turn before seeming to come to a decision. Placing a hand on Murphy's chest, she began backing him out of the room with her.

"I need your help," was all she said. Connor shot a questioning look at his brother, but his twin just grinned wickedly at him and submitted to the beautiful woman's advances.

"And he called me the horny bastard," Connor muttered to himself, still trying to figure out exactly what was supposed to be normal in this situation. He turned his attention back to Evie, who was still crouched on the floor in front of Jarvis Henley's lifeless body. He noticed for the first time that she was fingering a pendant on a long silver chain and that her mouth worked silently in what he instinctively interpreted to be prayer. She crossed herself and he found himself echoing her motion out of habit.

Standing and running a hand over her face, she took a set of earbuds from the pocket of her fitted, zippered sweatshirt, secured them in her ears and began to make a slow scan of the room. Connor was a little surprised that she refused to look at him. Instead, she started cleaning up anything that she and Anna had brought into the room – clearing up any evidence that might be linked to them. Not sure what else he should do, he shoved his gun (he was still holding it) into the waist of his jeans and started helping her.

The two women hadn't brought much, but what they had brought had certainly got the job done well. He was admittedly impressed by how prepared they were. He found himself near the body, admiring the stun gun that had kept Jarvis so much in their control. He made a mental note that he and Murphy would have to invest in new one. A slender, rubber-gloved hand reached out in front of him to pick up one of the shells the impressive .45 had ejected. Her hand trembled so hard that she dropped it as soon as she'd picked it up. She reached to pick it up again, but he covered her hand with one of his own and picked up the shell with his other. Their eyes locked in that moment and he was again taken aback by how intensely green hers were. After a moment, she pulled her hand away and broke their stare, resuming her cleanup operation. This had to be the saddest woman he had ever met in his entire life. The ache and depth of the sadness in her face was almost more than his sensitive heart could bear.

After carefully placing the black voice recorder on Henley's body, she finally made eye contact with Connor and nodded her head in the direction of the lone window in the room. Opening it, she crawled out onto the roof. He followed her without question. She'd already knocked two cigarettes out of a pack and lit one, cupping her hand against the cool breeze. Exhaling, she passed it to him and proceeded to light the second fag.

Inhaling deeply, Connor couldn't help but notice the lingering taste of strawberry lip gloss on the end of the cigarette.

"I'm sorry about yer ma," he finally managed to make his voice work.

Evie just nodded her acknowledgement.

After a few more minutes of silence, she said, "I thought there were three of you."

"Aye, there were. Our da's left the country," Connor told her.

"How come?"

"Got to be too dangerous fer 'im."

"Fair enough," she said, gazing out into the sky.

"I thought I would feel different," she admitted quietly. "I've obsessed about this day for so long and now that it's over… I don't hurt any less."

Nothing Connor could think of seemed appropriate to say to her. He knew from experience how bitter a pill revenge could be. However, he wasn't quite ready to relinquish this unexpected and not altogether unpleasant tête-à-tête with this sad, beautiful woman, so he said, "I guess ye just keep movin' t'wards the next thing."

The speed with which her head snapped in his direction and her remarkable eyes fixed almost lethally on his caught him off guard. Had it been the wrong thing to say?

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" he stammered, not entirely sure what he was apologizing for.

Her face softened almost as quickly as it had hardened, leaving him more confused than ever.

"No, you're right," she said, though it seemed as if she were talking past him rather than to him. "Move to the next thing."

And then, to add even more confusion to Connor's already bewildered impression of her, she seemed to come out of a trance and actually look at him for the first time since they'd met.

"It was you, wasn't it? At the motel."

He nodded, entirely at a loss for what to make of her.

"My sister has believed for years that we were destined to meet you eventually. I'm glad we did, but I'm sorry, too. I'm not exactly at my best right now."

"That's a' right. I understand better than ye know."

The awkwardness of the whole situation was becoming almost unbearable, so Connor did the only thing he could think of to rectify it. "Maybe we should start over." Moving his cigarette to his left hand, he held out his right to her. "I'm Connor."

Her smile was grateful as she accepted the handshake. "Evie."

"Pleasure to meet you."

Naturally, at that moment, Murphy and Anna stuck their heads through the open window.

"There y'are," Murphy said jovially. "We'd better scram before anyone gets suspicious."

After crawling back through the window, Connor offered his hand to Evie to help her out.

"I was just discussing with Miss Anna here how a successful night as this ought to be properly celebrated," Murphy was explaining.

"What do you think, Evie?" Anna was carefully examining her sister and for the first time, Connor experienced what it must be like for people watching him and Murphy interact.

Curious as to Evie's reaction, which had been so unpredictable to this point, he noticed that some of the coldness had returned to her eyes.

"Sure, but there's something I need to do first," she said.

Murphy began searching his pockets for something. "Connor, do ye have any matches?" he asked.

"If ye want a fag, I already have one lit."

"No, ye twat, matches from McGinty's. For the address."

"Aw, shite," Connor replied, patting himself down in his own search.

Success shortly proved to be Murphy's as he triumphantly produced a battered green book of matches. "See you ladies there?" he inquired hopefully, giving the book to Anna.

There was no mistaking the coy glace Murphy exchanged with Anna as she accepted the matches, hooked her arm through Evie's and left the room.

Waiting until he was sure the women were out of earshot, Connor couldn't resist a pointed jab at his brother. "Yer a fuckin' hypocrite, ye know that, right?"

"Whater ye talkin' abo'?" his twin asked innocently.

"'They call us the Saints,'" he mocked in a high pitched voice. "'I was tellin' Miss Anna we should celebrate.'" He caught his brother up in a headlock. "Fuckin' ream me out fer lightin' her fag."

"Ye didn't tell me she had a sister!" Murphy choked out in protest.

"Yeah, now who's the horny bastard?" Connor inquired, releasing his chastised sibling with a shove.

A laugh and a playful swat was all he got in return.

Turning his attention back to the scene in front of them, Connor thoughtfully rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm thinkin' we ought t' lay claim t' this," he said.

"I was thinkin' the same," his brother agreed, already reaching into his coat pocket for the shiny pennies that had become their trademark. He placed them over the dead man's eyes as Connor crossed the arms over the lifeless chest. They each muttered a prayer over the deceased and crossed themselves before taking their leave and heading over to McGinty's.


	4. Chapter 4

_I forgot what all the ratings are, but this one has some sexual content, so be advised, those of you who who need to be advised._

**Chapter 4**

In the car, Anna was just about beside herself with excitement.

"They're amazing," she was gushing. "More amazing than I had ever dreamed. And fucking gorgeous besides. Oh, Evie, this has to be the best day ever."

Her sister's smile was silent, but it was genuine and that was more than Anna had witnessed in years. It made her excitement even more palpable.

"We're gonna meet up with them, right? You weren't just saying that to get us out of there, were you?" She felt like a little kid, as giddy as if she had been promised a trip to Disneyland.

"Yeah, we'll go," Evie assented. "I just need to swing by somewhere first, if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. I'd go with you to the moon after today. Not that I wouldn't have before today, of course, but today I'm pumped enough to try just about anything."

Anna wanted to sing. The nightmare was finally over. The years of watching the hate and rage eat away at her sister had come to an end as surely as Jarvis' life had. And, they had met the Saints. She'd known, in her heart of hearts, that it had been inevitable. Their paths were destined to cross and they had – in the most unexpected and fantastic way, they had. The fact that they had shown up to kill Jarvis themselves was the absolute icing on the cake. It meant that other people knew what a bastard he was. It meant that what they had done was practically justified in the sight of God. She felt such an overwhelming sense of joy that she didn't even notice her sister's darkening demeanor until they'd come to a stop.

"Where are we?" she asked, desperately trying to hang on to her elation in spite of the deadly expression on Evie's face.

With a shake of her head, the expression was gone and Evie smiled at her. "Nowhere. Let's find this McGinty's."

A wave of panic swept over Anna as Evie put the car back in gear. Something was wrong, wrong, wrong. That look was supposed to be gone.

"Are you all right?" Anna asked cautiously.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm great," her sister said as convincingly as possible. "Best day ever."

"Just…you had that look. I thought killing Jarvis would make that look go away," Anna persisted.

"What? No, I was just reliving the night, that's all. I'm good, I promise." She reached over and squeezed Anna's hand.

The desperation to believe Evie was so intense that she chose to give in to it, bottling her panic and shoving it as deep inside herself as she could manage.

"Tell me about the other brother," Evie said. "What was his name?"

Anna knew she was trying to distract her by changing the subject, but she also knew Evie had picked a very distracting subject. Her brief conversation with Murphy had been incredibly tantalizing and she felt like a teenager who needed to spill everything about her latest crush.

"Murphy," she answered. "Wasn't he hot?"

"I was a little distracted and you swept him out of there so fast I didn't get a good look, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"He's hot, trust me. But so was Connor."

"I know. I met him before."

Needless to say, Anna was quite taken aback. "You what?"

"I met him at the motel."

"When? Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"It was two nights ago and it didn't seem important. I'd gone out for a smoke and a run and didn't have my lighter. He and Murphy were on their way to the room down the hall where you found out about them the next day. Connor gave me a light, that's all."

"That's all?!" Anna practically shouted. "What do you mean, 'that's all'?! Why wouldn't you tell me about something like that?!"

Evie cocked an eyebrow at her. "Because I knew you'd get all like this."

"Like what? I'm not like anything! Some sister you are! Meets a hot guy in the middle of the night and doesn't even bother to tell me about it."

"Oh, my god, are you pouting?" Evie laughed. "Look, I didn't know they were who they are until I saw them today, okay? If I had thought…"

Anna punched her arm. "You did so think. You could have said something when I told you about the hit down the hall. Oh! You're such a bitch!"

"What would you have done, huh? They were long gone by the time I put two and two together. Besides, it was 4:00 in the morning – it was dark and I wasn't even sure what I saw. Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," Anna pouted.

"You are so."

"No, I'm just disappointed, that's all."

"Why? We met them, didn't we? Just like you said we would. And now we're going to some bar with them to 'celebrate'. And don't you dare try to tell me I ought to talk you out of sleeping with Murphy – I saw the look you were giving him. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if that's what you took him away to do!"

Anna feigned insult. "Ah! Excuse me, I am not some tart who kills her former step-father and then promptly fucks the hot man who was there to do the same thing. Geez, I need a few drinks first!" She flung her hair back dramatically then burst out laughing.

"Oh, speaking of which," she said, loosing her seatbelt so she could reach for her duffle bag in the back seat. "Do you want a fresh shirt?"

"Um, no, I think I'd like to stay in this hoodie. The brain bits are a great accessory, don't you think?" Evie mocked.

"Ha ha. You're so funny." Anna dug through the bag and came up with two clean t-shirts.

"So what was Connor like, anyway?" she asked as she changed.

"He's very sweet. Pity I felt so…all over the place. I don't know if I made a very good impression."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. I picked on Murphy because of the way Connor was staring at you. Didn't think I had a chance with him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, as if you didn't see the 'I want to save her from the world' look he was giving you."

"'Save her from the world look'? What the hell is that?"

Anna just laughed. "You are amazingly oblivious, you know that, right?"

"I am not oblivious," Evie protested. "I'm just…focused."

"Ha! Focused. Good one," Anna scoffed.

"Oh, shut up and give me my shirt. We're here."

----

Connor and Murphy were each several beers in when the door of McGinty's swung open to admit two strangers whose appearance stopped everyone in their tracks and left every man's jaw hanging open nearly to the floor.

"What?" the redhead asked, "You boys never seen a couple of girls before?"

Stunned silence was all anyone could give her.

"Easy there, lads," Murphy called out as the crowd slowly started to revive and gravitate towards the two women. "They're with us." He draped an arm over Anna's shoulders as she slipped her own around his waist.

As Evie made her way past the gawkers and leerers towards the table where Connor was sitting, he couldn't help but notice that she seemed far more composed than she had been at the house – the raw vulnerability the circumstances had created was carefully replaced by a confident grin and a slight swagger in her gait. He felt his pulse quicken more than a little and stood up to greet her.

"Ye found it all right?" he asked, having nothing more clever to say.

"Piece of cake," she answered, seamlessly retrieving a cigarette from her bag and holding it between her lips before reaching back to find her lighter.

She needn't have bothered. Connor's lighter flicked to life in front of her and she held his gaze as she completed her task.

Taking a long drag, she sat back and seemed to be sizing him up.

"The first time you gave me a light – at the motel – why did you do it?" she asked.

He shrugged dismissively. "Force of habit."

A small grin crossed her lips. "You're not a very good liar."

"Ye want the truth?" he asked, leaning forward conspiratorially.

Her smile deepened slightly as she nodded.

"Ye think ye can handle it?"

She leaned forward. "Try me."

"I was thinkin' how nice it would'a been to be goin' to that motel for a rendezvous with ye instead of takin' out the human trash."

Sitting back with a chuckle, she took another long drag at her cigarette. "In another world, maybe you were."

As it had been earlier that evening, Murphy and Anna's timing was impeccable. Sitting down next to her sister, Anna slid a Guinness across the tabletop at her.

"He wouldn't let me order anything else," she explained with a nod in Murphy's direction.

"Breakfast of Champions!" Murphy exclaimed. "T' what shall we toast?" he inquired, holding aloft his glass.

"To happy endings!" Anna declared.

"No," Evie interjected rather forcefully. "To justice."

"Aye, that's better," Connor agreed, anxious to avoid reviving any coldness in Evie.

They toasted much and often the rest of that night, though Connor was careful to pace himself to Evie, who wasn't drinking nearly as much as her sister. Conversation wound around everything and nothing, since nothing of any importance could really be talked about in public. Murphy and Anna broke into song more than once, conducting the whole bar in awful renditions of "Wild Irish Rose" and "Auld Lang Sine".

The seating arrangements eventually changed so that Anna was perched on Murphy's lap and Evie had assumed a comfortable position under Connor's arm. He reveled in the sense of normalcy that he felt. The situation that had brought the four of them together had been far from anything like normal, but now, here amongst their friends, Connor could almost believe that he and Murphy had never received their call from God that had so changed the course of their lives. He could almost believe that there had been nothing other than good friends, beer and beautiful women in the last four years. Evie shifted slightly next to him, sending a twinge of pain down his leg from an old bullet wound and reality wound itself back around his imaginings. He hid a sigh behind another drink of beer.

He obviously didn't hide it well enough. "You all right?" Evie asked, her mouth tantalizingly close to his own.

"Hmm? Oh, aye," he answered, feeling his hormones beginning to take over everything else that had been going on in his head.

"I think maybe we should go," she said with a nod in the direction of their siblings. Murphy and Anna were currently making out rather furiously across from them and Connor got the point that if they let them continue, it would be quite the show for the rest of the bar.

"Aye. Do ye have a hose?" he asked with a chuckle as they shifted awkwardly to get up.

They managed to drag the two horn-dogs out of the bar and down the street to the house where Connor and Murphy had taken up residence not that long ago. "Sorry about the mess," Connor apologized as they made their way through the door.

"Let me give ye the grand tour," Murphy announced grandly, arm secured firmly around Anna as though he were somewhat afraid she'd take off if he let go. "Living room, dining room, kitchen, bath," he announced in the appropriate locations. "And upstairs," he said with a leer at Anna, "Bedrooms."

She leered back and pulled his face down to kiss him. "That's what I came for," she said with a wicked little grin.

"Lucky me," Murphy murmured.

"Indeed," Anna answered. "But you'll have to catch me first." And with that, she turned and ran up the stairs, Murphy close at her heels.

Connor couldn't help but smile and shake his head at the squeals and laughter that came from above him. This was all very...what was the word he was looking for?

"Bizarre," came the answer. Had he actually asked the question? "We just killed a guy," Evie observed. "Is this how your nights usually end?" she asked.

He couldn't help but laugh. "I wish. No…bizarre is definitely the word for it."

The awkwardness returned to them for a moment before Connor said, "Did you want something to drink?"

"Water, please," Evie answered, following him into the kitchen.

After filling two glasses from the tap, they returned to the living room. "Here," he said, giving her his glass. "Hang on a minute." Tossing the cushions off the couch, he managed to coax the bed out from inside it. He went to the corner of the room and found a few clean blankets which he shook out and draped over the mattress.

"It's not much, but it's clean," he told her, turning to find she was offering him a smoke. He took it as she flicked on the television and climbed onto the bed. Climbing on next to her, they stretched out and resumed their comfortable arm-over-shoulder position.

Connor didn't know what they were watching, nor did he care. He had not experienced this kind of physical contact for far too long. His hormones and his conscience were having a kind of battle in his head, but he had had too many drinks to know who to listen to.

It had escaped his notice that he hadn't yet relinquished the cigarette since she'd given it to him. To that end, Evie suddenly skooched up beside him and repositioned herself to straddle him. She took the cigarette from his mouth and took a long drag before dropping it into an old beer can and leaning in to kiss him, effectively ending the debate in his head. He pulled her in, sliding his hands under her shirt and running them up the length of her back. Surprised and more than a little turned on, he discovered she wasn't wearing a bra.

They kissed for a long time, and he relished every bit of it – the salty taste of her lips, the pressure and pleasure of her tongue against his, the heat of her skin, his own blood pulsing in his ears. He rolled her onto her back and held her arms down as he kissed the length of her neck, causing her to wrap a leg around him and arch her back against him. Releasing her arms, he pulled up enough of her shirt to kiss her belly, letting his tongue caress the soft flesh from her hip to her ribs. A soft moan escaped her lips as she tangled her fingers in his hair. He came back to her neck, lightly biting the lobe of her ear. Her breath quickened as she returned the favor, but guilt suddenly swept over him.

"Are ye sure about this?" he whispered.

She took his face in her hands and held him back to look her in the eyes. "Just this one night," she whispered, "Let's pretend we're normal," and pulled him in again to kiss him.

The guilt washed away and so did everything else. He lived and breathed nothing but those moments, marveling at the softness of her skin while mentally filing away a number of scars he found there; savoring the sensation of being inside her, bodies pressed up hard against each other, muscles and skin reacting to every touch and movement. He saw nothing but her face, heard nothing but the sound of her heavy breathing and quiet moans. He wanted to burn this space and time into his memory as though it were somehow his last rite on earth. They each had built up years of burdens and sadness and anxiety and tension and pressed them into each other with an intensity Connor could never quite describe or get hold of again. He didn't want it to ever end, but when it did, he found them clinging to each other as though they were each other's last hope for salvation. They fell asleep that way, foreheads pressed together, arms and legs wrapped around each other, holding on for dear life as though one or the other might get sucked away if they ever let go.


	5. Chapter 5

_AN - Thanks to everyone who has made me and this story one of their favorites! I am a bit of a review whore, though - so please tell me what you think of this so far. This story has been written in my head for a very long time and is finally now getting down on paper so I guess I'm looking for some validation. Thanks in advance!_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

A twisted, contorted face lunged at Evie as bloody hands wound themselves around her neck. "You're mine," the face hissed at her with a smile so evil it turned her blood cold.

Her eyes flew open and she found herself drenched in a cold sweat. For a moment, she didn't know whose arm was draped over her or where she was, but it all came back quick enough to prevent her from leaping from the bed in a panic.

It was still dark, so she knew she hadn't been asleep that long. Gently as she could, she eased Connor's arm from around her and sat up. She found her hands were shaking and it wasn't because she was cold. This can't be happening, she thought bitterly. For years, her sole focus had been killing Jarvis and now that it was done, the rage and hate she'd fostered for him had made way for abject terror. The five years of hell in her first foster home were seeping through into her conscience, the events she witnessed and experienced there already becoming stuck on sickly permanent replay in her head.

Last night, before McGinty's, she had driven to the house where it had happened, just to see if her foster father still lived there. His '62 El Camino was still parked in the driveway, like time hadn't touched him or that place at all. She knew then that she had more work to do before she would get any peace. After spending the night with Connor, however, she'd half hoped she'd actually be able to let it all go.

But the nightmares were still there – worse than ever, if that were even possible.

After getting dressed, she eased the front door open and slipped noiselessly into the cool night air. A brief walk revealed their car where they'd left it in front of the bar, from which she retrieved a clean sweater and her MP3 player. Placing the earbuds in her ears, she closed her eyes, picked a direction and started to run.

Half an hour later, Evie felt tremors of panic as she realized she was not getting the same therapeutic effects she these runs usually gave her. She turned around and started back, not bothering to pace herself. Her breath started to catch in her throat and her legs all but yelled out in protest as she frantically made her way back to the house, running as though there were actually something or someone chasing her.

Outside the door she forced herself to stop and try to calm down. With shaking fingers she lit a cigarette and inhaled as deeply as her oxygen-strapped lungs would let her.

"Fucking snap out of it," she whispered to herself, coughing as the smoke caught awkwardly in her throat. She wanted to cry, but couldn't force the tears to come.

Once the cigarette was finished, she crept silently back into the house. Connor was fast asleep, his naked body half covered and sprawled across the sofa bed. Walking past him as quietly as she could to the bathroom, she splashed cold water over her face a few times before heading back to the living room. Peeling off her clothes, she crawled under the blanket next to him.

Half waking up, Connor rolled over to accommodate her presence. "Ye a'right?" he murmured sleepily.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep."

With a sigh, he draped an arm back around her and did as he was told.

She lay awake, staring at him for a long time. She wanted to burn his face into her memory. For many reasons, she wasn't sure if she would ever see it again after the next day.

Another nightmare startled her awake some time later. The panic she had felt during her earlier run had never really left her. It made her want to somehow crawl out of her skin. She kept thinking that if she could just cry, she might feel better, but no matter how hard she tried, the tears just wouldn't come.

Instead, she got up again and decided to try running one more time.

----

Anna awoke the next morning about as refreshed and rested as she had felt in ages, even with her mild hangover headache.

As she made to sit up, a strong arm held her down.

"Mm, not yet," Murphy murmured into her hair.

She turned her body into his and kissed him. "Why do I have a funny feeling you would say that all day if I let you?"

He grinned and pressed his hips into hers. "Because I would." He rolled her onto her back and gave her a sly smile before kissing her deeply. "Will you let me?" he asked.

"I'm definitely tempted," she answered, letting her hands caress the length of his lean body. "But I'm going to need to eat before any more rounds with you."

As if anxious to agree with her, Murphy's stomach growled loudly and they fell into a fit of giggling before finally chasing each other out of bed, into their clothes and down the stairs.

They found Connor seated at the kitchen table with a coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other and a cigarette burning in an ashtray in front of him. Evie was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Evie?" Anna asked as casually as she could manage. The panic she had forced to the back of her head from last night was clawing its way forward more aggressively than she cared for.

Connor shrugged. "Not sure. She wasn't here when I woke up."

Pouring herself a cup of coffee from the ancient percolator on the stove, Anna swallowed it back quickly, desperately trying to convince herself that everything was all right. A brief glance at Connor told her that he might be trying desperately to convince himself not to take Evie's absence personally, since he seemed completely incapable of reading past the first page of the paper.

When Evie walked in ten minutes later with the sheen of sweat on her forehead and breathing heavily, however, Anna knew all was lost.

"Where were you?" she demanded of her sister, not bothering with pretense.

Evie shook her head dismissively but wouldn't meet her gaze. "No where."

"Why were you running?" Anna pressed.

"Just needed to clear my head," came the non-committal answer.

Anna slammed her hands on the counter. "No! Don't lie to me!" she shouted. "Why were you running? You aren't supposed to run anymore! It's supposed to be over!"

Evie's eyes snapped up to meet hers and the dark, distant look Anna saw there swelled her panic and inflamed her desperation. "What is it? What's going on? Please, Evie – tell me what's wrong."

Evie slowly shook her head. "Not this time, Anna."

Sure she was going to fall completely apart; Anna reached out for her sister. "Evie, please tell me. Is it about your foster home?"

The way Evie's face tightened was all the answer Anna needed, but she wanted more. She wanted her sister to stop hogging her pain and anguish, sure that if she just opened up, she could somehow help – the way she'd helped with Jarvis.

"Stay out of this," Evie warned darkly.

"No! I will not! You can't make me!" Anna didn't care if she was throwing a tantrum. This was too important.

Coming around the table, Evie gripped Anna's arms tighter than was really necessary. Staring into her dark, angry face, Anna had the creepiest sensation of knowing exactly how Jarvis had felt when Evie had stared him down last night. Fear coursed through her body and she knew her cause was lost.

"Don't push me on this, Anna," Evie said, her voice strained and edged with an emotion Anna couldn't pinpoint. "Everything I have is yours, but not this. Never this. I have spent my whole life protecting you from this and that's not about to change just because you're mad at me."

"I just want to…" Anna persisted.

Evie shook her once, hard. "No. Promise me, Anna. Promise me you won't ever ask me about this again. Promise me."

Trembling and fighting back tears, Anna nodded her head, knowing she didn't have a choice and feeling angrier than hell about it. "I promise," she whispered. "Just don't leave me."

"You'll be okay," came Evie's vague response, accompanied by an almost imperceptible glance in Murphy's direction. "I need to shower," she muttered and released Anna.

Anna stared helplessly at the retreating form of her sister. She closed her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat, determined not to bawl like a baby in front of Conner and Murphy.

A gentle touch on her hand interrupted her concentration. Opening her eyes, she saw two very compassionate, concerned faces looking back at her.

"Is there anything we can do t' help?" Murphy asked her.

She shook her head. "Evie... Evie has had a hard life. After our mother died, we were sent to separate foster homes. Evie's was... bad. No. It was worse than bad. She's never talked about it. She won't talk about it. I don't know what to do. She just...she shuts me out if I even hint at it. I thought...I thought all the anger and rage was because of Jarvis. I thought if he died, it would fix everything. But... she's worse today. This is almost as bad as I've ever seen her. Oh, God. I don't know what to do."

Warm arms enveloped her and a few tears involuntarily escaped her eyes as she submitted to Murphy's embrace.

"Can we try talking t' her?" Conner ventured.

Anna gave a wry snort, hastily drying her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sure, for all the good it'll do. Evie is stubborn as all hell."

"Can' hurt t' try," Murphy said, smiling broadly at her. She appreciated the gesture, but her gut told her there was going to be a lot more pain and suffering before she saw the end of this.

----

Watching Anna escape into the bathroom shortly after her sister vacated it, Murphy was admittedly torn by the situation he and his brother found themselves caught up in. They had been in all sorts of awkward spots before, but had never really experienced the 'damsel in distress' scenario quite so personally. Not that there had never been women - they had permitted themselves one or two over the last few years - but they had never encountered ones so desperately in need of saving. No, that wasn't entirely true. Evie was the only one really in need of saving; only apparently, not even her sister could convince her that that was the case. How did you rescue someone who didn't want to be rescued?

Looking over at Connor, Murphy knew that that question was eating his brother alive. He liked this girl. A lot. He could see it in his face and in the way he kept furtively glancing over his shoulder towards the living room where Evie was silently smoking and combing out her long black hair. Murphy didn't have to guess at Connor's reaction to not finding Evie there that morning and he knew that in spite of what Anna had just told them, self-doubt was inevitably gnawing at him right now.

Laying a hand on Connor's shoulder, Murphy nodded his head in the direction of the living room. Upon entering, he could feel the wall of silence and distance Evie had erected as clearly as he could smell the smoke that enveloped her. Holy shit, they had their work cut out for them. He nudged his brother, who was standing next to him looking like an idiot with his mouth hanging open, towards her.

With a quick shake of his head, Connor regained himself and made his way over to sit next to Evie. Murphy perched himself on the armchair next to the couch and watched as Connor lit a new cigarette for Evie and offered it to her. She took out her earphones as she accepted it from him.

"You a'right?" Connor asked her tentatively.

Evie chuckled humorlessly. "No," she said, taking a long drag from the cigarette, avoiding eye contact with either brother. "I haven't been all right in a long, long time." She hung her head and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said in a strained whisper.

Connor lifted her chin to make her look at him. "Ye don' need to apologize," he told her sincerely. "Let us help ye," he implored. "My brother and I, we run a little vigilante business, ye see, and we could take care o' whoever it was that hurt ye so bad."

She looked away again and for a minute, Murphy thought she might cry, but the tears never came. Instead she smiled unconvincingly.

"Thanks," she said hoarsely, "but no thanks." She ran a hand over her face and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, as though desperately trying to re-center herself. "I'll be all right," she told them. "I just need some time, that's all."

It was an awful attempt at a lie, but Murphy got the impression she really didn't want to talk about it anymore. Usurping any chance of his brother fruitlessly attempting to further the conversation, Murphy jumped up and patted her on the shoulder. "No problem. Ye take all the time ye need. Can I bring ye some coffee?"

"Yeah, sure," she said.

Connor shot him a questioning look, but conceded to the abrupt end of the conversation. "What'er ye watchin'?" Murphy heard him ask as he made his way to the kitchen.

Anna was waiting for him there. "Anything?" she asked, trying to look hopeful.

"Sorry," he had to disappoint her. "She claims she 'just needs some time'." He poured a fresh cup of coffee and warmed up the cup Anna was clenching in her hands. "What does Evie take in 'er coffee?" he asked.

"Nothing. She drinks it black," came the reply, her tone distracted and forlorn.

"Ye gonna be a'right?" he asked her.

"I just have a really bad feeling about all this. This is not going to end well." She suddenly reached out and grabbed his hand, a pained, apologetic look on her face. "I'm really sorry."

He chuckled. "Fer what? Nothin's happened yet."

"No, but I just can't shake the feeling that something will. And it won't be good. And you'll both be caught up in it and…God, this is all wrong. I was so hopeful last night."

A strange feeling suddenly washed over Murphy as he watched her body deflate in anxiety and disappointment. He wanted nothing more than to protect this beautiful girl from whatever imaginary threat she envisioned. He wanted to hold her in his arms and shield her from the things that might hurt her. Good lord, when did he become so romantic? This was the kind of movie shite Connor was always spouting off about. He was supposed to be the rational one, and yet here he was, waxing poetical in his mind about the grey-eyed, red-haired beauty in front of him.

And it didn't appear that he was able to stop.

Fuck it, he thought to himself. If you can't beat em'…

Putting an arm around Anna's shoulders, he gently kissed her forehead. "Well, whatever th' case, yer not alone this time. We'll see if we can make ye hopeful again," he told her with a grin.

The smile she gave him, though still somewhat dubious, was enough get him thinking about rose petals and wine and he couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous this girl had made him and how much he really, really didn't mind.


	6. Chapter 6

_AN It will probably take me 10 years to finish this, but what the heck, I'll keep picking away at it as the spirit moves..._

**Chapter 6**

Evie felt like a caged animal. She knew her sister would not leave her alone any time soon, not after this morning's argument, and the brother's cautious protectiveness, perhaps swoon-worthy in any other situation, was stifling to her now. She felt nothing but rage and terror clawing through her body, begging to be released.

Her foster father had to die – and she had to kill him. It was the only solution she could come up with that she believed would give her any peace. She didn't know if it was a rational solution and she didn't much care. The man had terrorized and brutalized her for five years of her young, already troubled life, leaving physical and emotional scars she could never be free of until he was dead.

He had to die.

It was all she could do to force herself to sit there and act normal – drink the coffee Murphy brought back for her, laugh at the appropriate times during the sitcom they were watching, remember to respond to the questions Connor occasionally posed. She wanted desperately to leave – to bolt for the door, drive down to her foster father's and shoot him in the head right there and then.

Occasionally, a sliver of sanity would beg her to ask the brothers to do the deed for her. They were, after all, the professionals in this situation. Righting this kind of wrong was what they specialized in. It would be a natural fit for them and Connor had even offered their services to her. But the Rage/Terror demon inside her would have none of it. This was her cross to bear, her bastard to kill, her justice to bring.

There had to be a way out of this house. If she could somehow convince them to leave her alone, even for a minute, she could sneak out. If she could run away from her foster father, she could find her way out of this place.

And then she remembered - there was a way. The same way, in fact, that had allowed her to run from her foster father. It would need to be embellished a little to account for the two extra people involved, but it could be done.

Excusing herself to the bathroom, she rummaged around in her backpack and found what she was looking for - sleeping pills Anna had convinced her to try when her insomnia was at its worst. A twang of guilt snapped through her gut, but the Rage/Terror demon had full hold by now and there was no room for second-guessing. She would have to wait until the evening, otherwise Anna would suspect something was amiss. Feeling groggy in the middle of the day would tip her off in an instant.

Just a few more hours, she consoled herself. A few more hours and it can all be done. Either he will die tonight or I will, but either way, it will end and I can finally, finally get some sleep.

By the time the evening rolled around, Evie was all but crawling out of her skin. She had to force herself to keep calm enough to both crush and slip the sleeping pill into three bottles of beer. Unfortunately, Anna was the only one who drank the beer. Both Connor and Murphy politely declined, behaviour Evie found mind-bendingly odd for two Irish men who otherwise seemed to drink with abandon. For a moment, she worried that they were on to her and had somehow deduced her plan, but having observed the quiet conversations and meaningful looks the brothers had shared with Anna throughout the day, she knew that Anna was relying on them to help keep an eye on her.

This, of course, called for a revision in her plans. After weighing her options, she concluded that, though it would cause a significant amount of pain to one or both of the men, her stun gun would have to come into play in one way or another.

And so she waited.

In short order, the effects of the sleeping pill started taking hold of Anna. Evie could tell from the way her speech slurred and her eyes involuntarily closed that the time for her escape was drawing near. When Murphy and Connor began to fuss over Anna's condition, she excused herself to the bathroom, picking up the bag of her and Anna's weapons on the way. Tucking the stun gun into the waistband of her pants and throwing the bag over her shoulder, she counted slowly to 60 before returning to the living room.

"I'm gonna take her to bed," she heard Murphy saying.

"Aye, she doesn't look too good," Connor agreed.

Evie slowed her pace and controlled her breathing, listening intently as Murphy's heavy footsteps climbed the stairs. He must be carrying Anna or he would be going much faster, Evie thought to herself. Entering the living room, she saw that Connor had his back to her, watching something on the news on TV. Carefully, she pulled the stun gun out of its hiding place. When she felt certain Murphy was totally up the stairs and fully occupied with helping Anna, she sprang deftly into action. Three paces away from Connor, she fired the stun gun between his shoulder blades, coursing enough electricity through him to cause him to fall in a silent, twitching heap on the floor. Remorse flooded her for a moment, threatening to break her resolve, as she bent down to kiss him and apologize.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured before determination swept back over her and she was out the door.

* * *

It was a long, long time before Connor could move again. The jolt of electricity Evie had given him had been nearing stupidity and it was all he could do to even flex his fingers. He heard Murphy coming down the stairs and managed a grunt to get his attention.

"What th' fuck?" his brother cursed upon seeing him lying there. "Where's Evie?"

"Help me up, ye bastard," Connor managed.

Murphy hauled him up onto the sofa. Connor started to feel as though he could move again, but his whole body was still on fire from the shock.

"She's gone," he told his brother.

"I assumed as much, ye wanker," came Murphy's retort. "Where the fuck did she go?"

"How the fuck should I know?" Connor snapped back. "She fucking Tased me!"

"Well, she must 'a drugged Anna, too, then. There's no way she should'a passed out like that."

"Fuck," was all Connor could think to say. "What the fuck do we do now?"

Murphy ran a hand over his face before seeming to remember something. He shot up and made a beeline for the kitchen.

"Do we still have that...fuck, what th' hell is that called again?" he shouted at his brother.

"I don't know what th' hell yer talkin' about," Connor answered, wincing as he flexed his limbs one by one.

"That stuff, that stuff you inject in yer heart when yer gonna die," Murphy answered, slamming open drawers and spilling their contents to the floor.

"Adrenaline?" Connor asked, his brother's idea beginning to take hold. "Ye wanna inject me with adrenaline?"

"Not ye, ye fucker, Anna. She'll know where Evie's headed. Where the fuck is it?"

"I put it in our bags," Connor recalled, forcing himself off the couch to reach for their black duffle bags. He groped two or three of the pockets before finding the vial he was looking for. "Ye sure this is a good idea?" he asked his brother.

"Ye got a better one?"

Shaking his head, Connor knew they had few other options. Besides Anna's anxiety over her sister, there was no mistaking the look in Evie's eyes all day. It was the look of someone ready to die. He'd seen it before in the face of a man they'd come across perched on a bridge one night. The man had merely smiled at their efforts to talk him down before leaping to his death in the water below.

There was a panicked scream from upstairs and Connor knew the injection had done its job. Now comes the hard part, he thought.

Anna was wired and frantic after hearing the news. It was all the two men could do to keep her from running out of the house barefoot after her sister. In haste, they loaded themselves, their guns and Anna into their car and took off in the direction Anna seemed to recall Evie had gone after killing Jarvis.

Fortunately, Anna's memory, even under duress and a stupid amount of adrenaline, was remarkably good. They found Evie's car and an old El Camino parked in the driveway of the otherwise nondescript house.

"I'm coming with you," Anna insisted, straining to get out of the car. Murphy had to physically hold her down.

"No, ye can't come," he told her firmly.

"I'm coming with you!" she screamed, clawing at him desperately, tears flowing down her face.

"Anna! Anna, listen to me!" Murphy shouted back, bodily pinning her to the seat, "Evie has spent her whole life protecting ye from whatever is in this house. You're drugged and irrational and we don' know what's in there. If ye go in there, ye'll make it worse. Connor and I will go. We will get Evie out and bring her here, to ye. But ye have to stay in the car."

"Promise me!" she cried. "You promise me you will bring her back to me alive or I swear to God, I will kill you both."

"I promise ye," Connor answered without hesitating. She stared intently at him before turning her attention to Murphy.

"I promise ye," Murphy echoed.

Defeated, but satisfied, she relaxed and the two men quickly left the car.

* * *

Nothing had gone the way Evie had planned. But then, she hadn't really had a plan. Perhaps that had been her undoing.

She'd got into the house easy enough, went straight to the room he always spent his evenings in, burst in, gun first, and had froze solid at the sight of him. He hadn't changed in all those years. Nothing about him had diminished. In fact, the grayness of his hair and the new lines in his face made him more intimidating, not less.

Worse still, he hadn't even flinched when she came in.

"Well," he said. "If it isn't my Evie. You're a little late, darlin'." And with that, he summarily disarmed her and knocked her unconscious.

She was now tied to a chair, re-living her nightmares. He told her he had years to make up for and was slowly, surely, beating his way through her body. Several ribs were already broken, along with a toe or two. She drifted in and out of consciousness, knowing that it was she that would die tonight. He wouldn't let her leave this place alive. That moment of hesitation, when all the rage and terror had betrayed her and left her a cowering child, had ended her life. She had no fight left. She was resolved to her fate. She couldn't even pray for a miracle anymore.

But one came anyway.

She had just drifted back into consciousness after blacking out from his last round of beatings when she heard the door slam open. God had not abandoned her. Not this time. She barely had time to register the look of pure rage on the faces of the McManus brothers before the darkness closed in again.

Someone was calling her name.

"Evie. Evie, can ye hear me? Wake up, girl."

She fought her way back and forced open her eyes. Connor was holding her in his arms. She blinked hard a few times, trying to register what was going on. She felt something cold and hard being pressed into her hand. Looking down, she saw it was a gun.

"End it, Evie," Connor told her. He was covered in blood. Why was he covered in blood? She managed to turn her head enough to see her foster father tied to the chair she had recently occupied. He looked like ground beef with clothes on. The brothers had not been merciful.

Connor and Murphy helped her stand and brought her closer to thing that was once the orchestrator of her worst nightmares.

"Be done with him, my love," Connor whispered in her ear, helping her hold the gun steady. He lifted her arm so that the barrel was pressed directly into the man's forehead.

"Fuck you," she murmured before pulling the trigger.

Connor scooped her up before she passed out again.

* * *

Fear and anxiety were not the usual emotions Connor had to deal with on a hit. A bit of nerves, maybe, but not this nauseating feeling of not knowing what you're going to find.

They didn't have to search the house to find them. There was only one light on in the whole place. When they burst through the door and saw Evie tied to and slumped in a chair, Connor let go of whatever usual self-control he had and taught the bastard the meaning of pain. It was not his style to beat someone like that. They generally liked to take care of business quickly and cleanly. But for this man, exceptions had to be made.

When he was done his lessons, Murphy helped him tie the man to the chair Evie had previously occupied. As much as he wanted to finish the man himself, he knew how important it was that Evie should pull the trigger. He picked her up and gently shook her.

"Evie. Evie, can you hear me? Wake up, girl."

She stirred and struggled to open her eyes. He put a gun in her hand.

"End it, Evie." She looked at him and then over at the man in the chair.

Connor and Murphy helped her stand and hold the gun to the man's head. "Be done with him, my love," he whispered.

"Fuck you," was all she murmured as she pulled the trigger.

Her body began to sag, so Connor picked her up before she could hit the floor. They didn't bother to say any prayers over the man. Fuck you seemed enough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The blackness was such a relief, Evie was reluctant to relinquish it. She could handle the pain, she thought, if only she didn't have to be conscious. She didn't know how much longer he would keep her alive - hours, days, weeks - but it didn't matter. She had dreamed of being rescued, but knew that that was an impossibility. No one knew where she was. Reality was rushing back in on her and she began to brace herself to confront her current nightmare.

When she opened her eyes, however, she discovered the nightmare had become exponentially worse. Anna's face hovered in front of her. NO! was all she could think as a primal scream loosed from her throat. She shoved her sister across the room, her brain unable to register the fact that she was no longer tied up. All it could do was scream at her to get Anna as far away as possible.

Body tensed for a fight, she was on her feet in the middle of the room. Her senses were trying desperately to tell her that her situation had changed - she wasn't tied down, the room was different, his smell was gone - but the puzzle pieces refused to come together in her panicked mind.

Someone was calling her name.

"Evie."

Her eyes searched frantically for Connor's, and locking fiercely onto them, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly clicked together in rapid succession. It hadn't been a dream. They really had found her. He really was dead.

She felt Anna's hand lightly touch her elbow. "It's okay, Evie," she said, "It's really over this time."

With that, Evie's knees buckled. She collapsed to the floor and wept 16 years worth of tears

* * *

The whole thing had been desperately unsettling to Connor. Carrying Evie out of that nightmarish room, he had no idea how badly she might be hurt. Remarkably, Anna had been the most composed of the three of them, deciding immediately that while Evie's injuries were bad, the hospital could wait.

Back at the house, they'd laid Evie out on the couch where Anna gave her a more thorough examination. The bruises covering her stomach and arms looked bad and Connor felt pretty certain she would need more medical attention than they could give her. Anna wanted to wait for her to wake up, worried about what might happen if she woke up in a hospital room full of strangers.

The primal scream and wild look in Evie's eyes completely rattled him. He hadn't even realized he'd said her name out loud until she'd locked eyes with him with such force he'd almost lost his footing - as though he held the only light in whatever dark room her mind was trapped in. When she'd finally collapsed, he felt undone. The completeness of her brokenness and the raw vulnerability of those moments were almost too much to bear.

By the time Anna managed to help Evie to the washroom, Connor was physically shaking. Even his brother's hand trembled as he passed over a much-needed cigarette.

A pile of clothes dropped in Connor's lap. "You're a mess," Anna told him, taking his hand and examining the battered flesh. "Did you kill him or did she?"

"She did," he answered.

"Good. Change. I'll clean you up."

He did as he was told, allowing her to wash and ice his injuries.

After coming back from checking on Evie in the bathroom, Anna touched his shoulder. "She wants to talk to you."

Connor let himself into the room and found Evie sitting in a tub full of water, her forehead resting on her knees. She turned her face towards him as he knelt beside her. Anger flared up in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the myriad of bruises and scars covering her back.

"I didn' make 'im suffer enough," he said through gritted teeth, gingerly touching the oldest, nastiest looking scar near her spine.

"No amount of suffering would have been enough," she said quietly. "Let the devil have him."

She took his hand in hers and pressed his bruised, swollen knuckles lightly against her lips. "Did you notice his glass eye?" she asked.

"Aye," he said, recalling how it had shattered in the man's skull when he'd hit him.

"I did that to him. Gouged it out the first and only time he tried to rape me. He decided to stick to tying me up and beating the shit out of me after that. Made me watch him beat and rape the other kids, too."

Connor felt nauseated. No one should have to live through the things she'd experienced.

"Good thing yer a fighter," he said.

She chuckled wryly. "No. I was ready to die tonight. This was the second time you saved my life, you know."

He gave her a quizzical look. "How do ye mean?"

"Four years ago, I tried to kill myself," she turned her arms over to reveal long white scars along the length of each. "Anna found me before I bled out. She was so mad. I just couldn't do it anymore. I'd promised my mom I'd get justice for her, but what could I do, really? The only good thing in my life was Anna and I just felt like a giant, useless burden to her. I figured she'd be better off without me. I couldn't see the point of going on. Next day, I was still trying to figure out how to finish the job when Anna puts the paper in front of me with your faces all over it. It was the day after you'd killed Papa Yakavetta and reading that story, it was like all the lights came on at once. I thought, if you three, ordinary guys could bring justice - real justice - to an evil guy like that, maybe, just maybe there was hope for me, too. Maybe I could find a way to bring my mom some justice, too. That's when we started planning to kill Jarvis.

"I poured all of my energy into that - so much I didn't give myself space to think about anything else, not till you and I were on the roof the other night and you told me to just keep moving to the next thing. My foster dad was my next thing, but he was too much for me. There were too many years of fear and helplessness - I just froze when I saw him... If I'd let Anna help me, she would have known. She would have found a way to manage my emotions the way she always does. But I just couldn't let her into that house. If he had got his hands on her..." her voice caught in her throat and she covered her face with his hand.

Lost for words, he stroked her hair and kissed her cheek.

"I'm sorry I tased you," she murmured.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "Yer forgiven."

Turning her face toward him again, she said, "I have to warn you, I have no idea who I'll be after all this is over."

"That's a'right. I'm interested to find out."

"I'm having trouble keeping my eyes open," she admitted, her head growing heavy in his hand.

"Ye should go to the hospital," he advised.

"They'll ask questions."

"Aye, and ye'll tell them th' truth."

Her eyes narrowed. "I won't let them have you."

He smiled. "See, I was right, ye are a fighter."

He helped her out of the tub and into fresh clothes, winching each time a moan of pain escaped her lips. She leaned on him heavily, favoring her right side, as they made their way back to the living room.

"We need t' take 'er to the hospital," he told Murphy and Anna. He saw her grip his hand a little tighter, but she didn't argue.

They piled into the brothers' car and headed for the nearest emergency room, fully aware that their lives were very likely going to be turned upside-down and inside-out by the end of the night. But God knew it was the right thing to do.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Murphy sat on a chair in the waiting room gnawing at a hangnail, a nervous habit left over from childhood. Connor sat across from him, staring blankly at the floor. Evie and Anna were in a room, discussing Evie's injuries with a doctor, a nurse and a police officer. The brothers had already put in a call to their 'inside men' at the precinct - Detectives Duffy, Dolly and Greenly - but they knew that this particular case fell pretty far outside their usual M.O., so there was no telling what was going to happen.

Murphy had marveled at Evie's resilience in spite of her injuries and the trauma she'd just gone through. She'd fought to stay alert and attentive the whole ride over as the brothers tried to give the girls an idea of what to expect in terms of the police and the investigation. Once they'd walked through the emergency doors, however, she'd promptly collapsed in the middle of the chaos and was immediately swarmed by a small army of doctors and nurses and swept off to a room. He couldn't be sure how much of it was involuntary and how much a calculated move on her part, but at any rate, it had been effective.

If there was one thing Murphy was sure of, it was that he and Connor would not be running away from this. As far as either of them was concerned, they had done the right thing. Saving Evie's life from that monster had been the only option and they were prepared to accept that consequences of that, whatever they may be.

"Hey guys," Duffy's hushed voice broke his reverie. "What the fuck happened?"

"We were just at the crime scene – we could barely ID the guy he was so fucked up," Greenly said.

In answer and in unison, the brothers stood and motioned to Evie's room. Opening the door, the three detectives were accosted with the sight of Evie's bare, battered back, exposed to the nurse and the on-duty officer who was documenting it with his camera.

The men flashed their badges and got a succinct summation from the officer before excusing him and the nurse and introducing themselves to Anna and Evie.

Greenly, ever the ladies' man, sat on the edge of the bed and tried, in his awkward way, to establish rapport. "I understand this must be hard for you and I know you've already told your story to the officer, but we'll need you to go through it again for us."

Evie tilted her head slightly to look him over, then turned to look at Connor. Murphy knew without looking at him that his brother would nod reassuringly at her and grit his teeth to brace himself to relive the night's events.

It wasn't a bad idea to steel himself, too, Murphy reasoned, subconsciously reaching out to take Anna's hand. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, still glazed with the tears she must have shed having to hear what happened for the first time.

Murphy had only known how it all had ended. Nausea swept over him as he listened to Evie tell how it all had started and he was beyond glad that he had let his brother unleash his fury on the man. All of Evie's strange, cagey behavior over the last day made complete sense to him now. He was relieved he had thought enough to prevent Anna from going into that house. Evie was right to protect her from that place and that man.

The adrenaline left Evie's face as she neared the end of her statement and Connor reached out to catch her by the back of the neck as she started to fall back on the bed.

"Are ye in pain?" he murmured to her, easing her down, "Should I get the nurse?

She smiled weakly. "No, I'm just tired. I think I might actually sleep for the first time in years."

"Aye, ye rest," Connor grinned, kissing her forehead.

None of the detectives had said a word yet, they just stared at each other, the gears obviously grinding hard in their heads.

"Fuck, this sucks," Dolly was the first to say.

"You have to arrest them, don't you?" Anna asked, giving voice to the thought that was on all their minds.

"I'm not sure there's any way around it," Duffy conceded.

"If he had been a mobster or in the system in any way," Greenly lamented, "But this guy was a 'pillar of the community' – or did his damnedest to appear that way."

"It would be your word against a dead guy," Dolly said, slapping his notebook closed. "A beat-to-shit dead guy."

"Not just my word," Evie managed, resolve stealing across her face. "You tell me who I need to talk to and I promise you it will be more than just my word."

Duffy pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to Anna. "Call him. He'll know what to do."

Murphy didn't have to see the card to know whose name was on it – Special Agent Paul Smecker of the FBI.

Evie gripped Connor's hand as he leaned in for one last kiss. "I won't let them have you," she told him with a fierceness in her voice that made Murphy believe her.

Pulling Anna toward him, Murphy stole one last kiss from her before he and Connor turned to leave the room in the custody of the three detectives, their fate as uncertain as it had ever been.

* * *

It killed Anna to watch them leave. This was not the way this was supposed to happen. They had saved Evie's life, for fuck's sake. She sighed deeply – it had been a very long few days. Her head hurt from the influx of information she'd had to take in, and her chest ached from where Murphy had injected her with adrenaline. She rested her head on the bed next to her sister. Evie stroked her hair.

"How is it that you're so calm and I'm such a wreck?" Anna asked into the mattress. "You're the one who almost died tonight."

"This is about as happy an ending as I ever could have imagined," Evie told her. "I had to live with all that shit for all these years. You just learned about it all in the last few hours – I'm not surprised you feel like a wreck."

"What are we going to do about Murphy and Connor?" Anna asked.

"Right now? Nothing. I'm going to sleep. You're going to tell the nurse about being injected with adrenaline and get yourself checked out. We'll call the person on that card in the morning and go from there," Evie told her.

Anna looked up at her sister, amazed at how much she had changed in the last few hours. "Are you really going to sleep?" she asked.

Evie smiled, her eyes already drooping, "I really am."

"Thank God," Anna sighed as her sister fell into what appeared to be a deep, peaceful sleep. Anna was glad for her sister, but couldn't shake her anxiety over what was going to happen to Connor and Murphy.

A nurse came in to check Evie's vitals, so Anna kept up her part of the bargain and told her about being injected with adrenaline. Thankfully, the bed next to Evie was free, so the nurse had her get on it while she waited for a doctor to check her over.

She must have dozed off because the next thing she knew, a pretty young woman with a stethescope around her neck was gently shaking her awake.

"Ms. D'Anjou?" she asked, her voice kind and reassuring. "I'm Dr. Sera. The nurse told me you had some concerned about being injected with adrenaline?"

Anna shook her head to clear the cobwebs. "Yes. It's a long story. My sister drugged me with sleeping pills, but my friends needed to wake me up in a hurry to help them find her, so they gave me a shot of adrenaline."

"Sounds like an interesting night," Dr. Sera commented, examining the puncture wound on Anna's chest.

"Yeah, you could say that."

After checking her vitals and asking if she knew what drug Evie had used on her, Dr. Sera jotted a few notes in Anna's file. "Well, you seem all right, all things considered. I don't really want to give you any more drugs right now since I don't know what you were originally given, so unfortunately, you'll just have to deal with the pain till the morning. I'll get you some pain killers then, I'd just rather wait until everything else is out of your system."

"Fair enough," Anna said. "Are you looking after my sister, too?"

"Yes, she's next on my list. Evie, right? It's odd, you know, she reminds me a lot of someone I knew when I was a kid. Same first name, too..."

Something stirred in Anna - she had a sudden premonition that a divine connection of some kind was about to happen. Evie would have called it her sixth sense, Anna just called it her gut reaction.

"Did she always go by D'Anjou?" Dr. Sera asked.

"No," Anna said, "That's our mother's maiden name. It was Edwards when she was a kid."

The doctor's face paled. Anna watched her hands start to tremble as she lifted the blankets to check the bruises laced across Evie's legs.

"Did he do this?" Dr. Sera asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," Anna said, sitting upright on the bed. "Her foster father."

"Oh, my god."

"You were one of them, too, weren't you?" Anna asked.

The doctor nodded, covering her mouth with her hand. "He used to make her watch... She would sit there, tied to that chair, and scream at him until her voice was gone... told him she'd make him pay one day..."

"She did," Anna told her. "She killed him tonight."

"Oh, my god."

Anna gripped the doctor's arms and forced her to look her in the eye. "She went there on her own and he overpowered her. My friends, the ones who injected me, they saved her life. He would have killed her, but they found her and beat the shit out of him then helped her shoot him. The police just arrested them and I don't know what's going to happen to them. If they go to trial, will you testify about what he did to you?"

It took Dr. Sera a few minutes to find her voice. "You're sure he's dead?" she asked.

"Evie hasn't slept in almost 16 years. She is finally resting tonight. I am more sure that he's dead than I have been of anything in my life. He can't hurt you anymore. He can't hurt any of you anymore."

Dr. Sera fumbled in her coat pocket and pulled out a business card. She wrote a number on the back and handed it to Anna. "I'll be here, but I'm in my residency and they move me around a lot. Call me if you need me. I'll do anything for Evie. She always looked after us and she suffered the worst for it."

"Thank you," Anna said, cupping her hands over the doctor's. "Do you know where any of the others are?"

"No. Maybe one or two. I don't know. I can't believe he's dead."

Anna smiled sympathetically at her. "Do you think you can put your doctor hat back on?"

Dr. Sera blinked and then smiled back at her. "Yes. Thank you. Let me check Evie over."

Hope started to grow in Anna's mind again and she started to understand why Evie was so sure she would be able to convince others to come forward. They all hated and feared the man, but now that he was dead, there was nothing keeping them from revealing what a monster he really was.

After Dr. Sera left, Anna pushed the hospital bed next to Evie, curled up next to her and promptly fell fast asleep.


End file.
